


Aubouroc: Part 2 - The Rise

by PhantombMoll



Series: Aubouroc: The Fall and The Rise [2]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, I mean if you read the whole thing it's a reallllll slow burn haha, Sandor honestly deserved a better ending, This might become a fix it fic when we get to season 8, We'll see how I feel, but I'll point those bits out when the time comes, first in the series was the fall - mostly Bronn/OFC, folklore either from the GoT world or inspired by it, haven't felt the need to warn for stuff that might appear on the show, hopefully that's okay, info taken from the wiki and then my slant on it, might punch you in the chest with some feels at some point, mostly - Freeform, oh yeah and I've included some folklore, part two of a series, slow burn is slow burn, they did a lot of Characters dirty so I might fix some of that, this one is The Rise from seasons 6 and up, we'll see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:00:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25408816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantombMoll/pseuds/PhantombMoll
Summary: It's not just weak men who are made weak by love.Whether that love is of power, coin, war or, of our fellow men.The best of us suffer at it's hands, the strongest of us are broken by it's power.This is the story of the fall of a Lady and her rise as a protector of the living. This is the story of Adelais Aubouroc.Bronn x OC then Hound x OC. Incredibly slow burn.I've decided to split this into two parts - The first charts the Fall of our Lady and her relationship with Bronn, the second will chart the rise of her as a protector of the living and her relationship with Sandor Clegane.
Relationships: Sandor Clegane/Original Female Character(s), general show ships, mentions of, original character relationships too, plus maybe some outside
Series: Aubouroc: The Fall and The Rise [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1812949
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	1. The Body

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to split this into two halves because I thought there was a clear end to the first.  
> In the first part Aubouroc: Part 1 - The Fall, we saw Lady Adelais Aubouroc slowly lose the grip on her house, whilst falling for a sellsword and trying to protect her friends. We ended with her shot down, leading soldiers away from her friends so they could escape.  
> Now we rejoin her as she tries to make a new life for herself and winds up tangled up in a fight for life itself.
> 
> You can read this second part on it's own (if you're looking for something more Sandor heavy) but you miss out on Adelais journey to get to the point where she is now.
> 
> Also: A/N – So I have made a conscious decision to follow canon (as with the first), up to a point. Generally when I’m writing I like to stick as close to Canon as possible, having the original characters and things as people who appear between scenes of off screen. Where it’s important that they feature in something that is canon and onscreen I like to try to insert them with little disturbance. Utilising dialogue and exact scene set up from the show. HOWEVER – I think most fans agree that Season 8 was…. Okay. It was great up to a point – so whilst I’m going to follow canon mostly, I’m also going to change shit up, like Sandor’s ending for one, - I’m not saying it’s a definite he’ll survive in this version of things – but it’ll be different.

Adelais woke with a start, it was how she woke most mornings since Ray and his followers had found her. Her dreams were filled with something she couldn’t place, something she couldn’t work out. The old woman, the light, the pain. She didn’t know if it was real or imagined, well apart from the pain. That had been real.

“Ah good you’re awake.” Ray said blocking out the sun that broke through the shade of the tree. “Need your help.”

“What is it?” Adelais asked.

“Dreaming again?” Ray asked as she followed him up the hill, not bothering to answer her own question. “Same thing?” He asked when Adelais didn’t reply.

“If you say anything about God’s again-“ Adelais started but didn’t finish.

“I’m just saying Isla said wherever you came from they’d been patching you up. She reckoned you’d been recovering about a week before you stumbled off.” Ray replied.

“Which means someone was probably helping me, or- I don’t know, I don’t remember. Just the woman and the voice and the light.” Adelais shook her head and rolled her stiff shoulder.

“Someone isn’t done with you. Otherwise you’d have died on that bed. Isla still thinks you’re a miracle.” Ray mused. “Brought into our lives to help us.”

“It’s not like you were starving before I came along.” Adelais rolled her shoulder again. She didn’t really want to think about the dream, didn’t want to think about what had led to her stumbling upon this group of kind strangers. Barely enough for themselves but still willing to give to her, half dead from arrow wounds.

“No, no we weren’t. We didn’t have the luxury of fresh meat every day though, and you’re a good teacher.” Ray pointed out. “This is what I needed you for.”

The settlement was based under the cover of the woods, though Ray had plans to build a Sept on the small hillock not too far away. They’d done well, small huts and tents erected mostly around trees or between them. They had the cover of the forest for nights and winters. Ray led them into what had come to be deemed the medics hut. It was mostly used to tend to minor injuries, as thankfully, there wasn't too many sick or dying. More than anything it was a store for the herbs and tinctures that the Everly Sisters had put together.

There was a man on the bed against the far wall, too big for it, they’d had to put a table under his feet. She could smell him from where she stood, he was filthy, caked in mud and blood and pus.

“I know you don’t believe in violence anymore but if it’s a mercy killing you’re after, you’d have been better leaving him where he was.” Adelais said, hand sliding instinctively behind her back to the two daggers there. There were three things she’d managed to salvage from her escape, her bow, the cuffs of her armour and her two valyrian steel daggers. This was another point Ray tried to press on her about whoever she’d woken up to in the woods. They’d left her with armour and steel when they could have stolen or sold it.

“I don’t want to kill him. I thought he were dead, until he coughed.” Ray chuckled.

“How did you even get him here?” Adelais asked moving closer and ignoring the stench. She smelt worse on the battlefield, she'd smelt worse in the yard when a smithy was injured.

“Dragged him onto the cart, couple of lads helped get him in here.” Ray admitted.

Adelais had only ever really seen one man as big as this, well two, but only one she’d had conversation wi- Adelais stopped moving forward and Ray took in the expression on her face.

“Didn’t take you for being squeamish.” He said. “Oh, it’s not that is it. You know him.”

“He was a Knight in King’s Landing.” Adelais said, tilting her head so she could see his battered and swollen face more clearly.

“Anyone I’d have heard of?”

“I don’t know his name.” Adelais shook her head.

“Good man?” Ray asked still scrutinising her, like he was trying to work out whether he should just let the man die. Adelais had to wonder, if someone did come into his flock heavily wounded but a monster within, would Ray just let them die? Or would his new found faith win out.

Adelais nodded in response to his question. It was a split-second decision.

Sandor Clegane was lying half dead on a table in front of her. She could have finished him off there and then, maybe that would be kinder, but she owed it to him to at least try, and to Ray. She owed Sandor for the kick of a dagger when she was on her back. She was sure tales of The Hound would have stretched far and wide. Even though he’d given up violence, part of her worried that if she told Ray who this really was, he’d put him back out for the dogs. Sandor Clegane was known for his brutishness but Adelais had always known there was more there, because there was, somewhere beneath all that hard grumpy exterior, a heart. Before she’d left King’s Landing she’d heard too that he’d been on the road with Arya, and whilst she couldn’t say what his treatment of her had been, she couldn’t imagine him being overly cruel. It just wasn’t him.

“What do you think I can do? The Everly’s are your Woods Witches.” Adelais said. The Everly’s had been the ones to save her, she was sure they could do the same for Sandor. “And you were a sellsword. You know how to take care of battle wounds.”

“Yeah but your house was built on this stuff. Aelton is famous for it’s Woods Witches and you know how to take of yourself you’ve already proven that. This needs attention from people who’ve been on the battlefield and around real war wounds. Not just concoctions.” Ray pointed out.

“Aelton was built on a lot of fucking things, most of them horseshit." Adelais said bitterly. "I know the Everly’s think I was sent to you for a reason but I wasn’t. I’m not a Maester, I can’t help with this. I can shoot an arrow, I can fight. I can tell you what not to eat in the woods but I can’t magic bones back together or bring some poor fucker back from the dead.” Adelais said frustratedly. She liked Ray, a lot. She appreciated his humour, his newfound kindness. She even appreciated how much he cared for his followers, but his keep mentioning she'd been brought here, kept on this Earth for a reason grated on her. There was no reason. If there was a reason it wasn't a good one, it was to keep her in some sort of hell. Tormented by demons she could barely escape. 

“I don’t think you can.” Ray laughed. “I need someone who isn’t squeamish though, and who isn’t afraid of someone twice their size who’d probably going to be more trouble than a rabid dog when they wake up.”

“We need to get him cleaned up.” Adelais said, feeling slightly guilty that she’d become so frustrated so easily. It wasn't bad here, at all. There were worse places she could have ended up. She'd been dreaming of a life like this for years now. To be free from the house. Things were still raw though. Her own foolishness was a wound that could be pressed easily. New friends were good but she missed her old friends. The mismatched family she'd found for herself, that she'd forged despite being some sort of monster. Everytime she thought of Tib and Charity, of Tyrion, a hollowness formed in her chest. She didn't know whether they were alive or dead. Her days were mostly filled with hunting, teaching, keeping herself busy in every way she could. Pretending the hollow of a tree was Bronn, Tywin or Halle's face and practising her aim.

“The lads are bringing water.” Ray gestured over his shoulder.

“That’s not going to do it, look at him, he’s already been festering for days. We need to get him to the stream, let the water run over him and away from him. The Everly’s can make up some drawing ointment. Once we’ve got him relatively clean and new clothes on then we can see what’s what.” Adelais pointed out.

She didn’t like to think about it too much, but between Bronn and Aubouroc there were things she’d learned about taking care of herself. Bits and pieces she’d picked up from soldiers too. Wounds needed to be clean everyone knew that and throwing a couple of buckets of water on Sandor was going to do fuck all.

“What happened to I’m not a Maester?” Ray asked with a raised brow. 

“I saw one of the Smiths get injured once, something on the fire just caught, exploded out. He dropped into the mud and the first thing they did was carry him over to the water pump rather than any table. Just kept pumping until it was bloody but clean, all that mud gone. Then he was taken inside and the Woods Witches did something with him.” Adelais replied.

“He recover?” Ray asked.

“Until the Baker caught him in bed with his wife. A lot can be done with herbs and water but curing a skull cracked by a rolling pin is not one.”


	2. Lie Down

Sandor snapped up, gasping, as pain radiated up his leg.

_Where the fuck was he?_

The pain spiked again, and Sandor struck out, colliding with whoever, or whatever, was at the source of his pain. He sat up, greeted by rough walls made from branches and mud. Two trees seemed to be supporting one side of the shack, shelving strung between them with a multitude of bottles and tools and bowls.

“Lie the fuck back down you idiot.” A woman’s voice said, bleary eyed he looked over to see her wiping blood from her mouth.

“The Vilas.” Sandor growled in shock, just one of her nicknames back in King’s Landing.

“Given the position you’re in I’d watch what you call me.” Adelais hissed back at him, pressing down _hard_ on the dressing she’d been changing as the Everly sisters eyed her.

“BITCH.” Sandor cried out, whole body tensing as he started to feel the extent of all his injuries. He was aching from what felt like head to toe, he was nauseous too, just sitting up had the room spinning and pain shooting up his spine. He’d been so sure he would die at the bottom of that ravine. So sure, that he’d be torn apart by wild animals but here he was, the gods only knew where.

“I mean, that’s fair. I didn’t mean to press that hard.” Adelais applied a freshly soaked dressing and started to tie it.

This was exactly why Ray had asked her to help, he was worried about how Sandor would react on waking, worried about how a man of his size might lash out and scare the sisters away. Adelais knew the Everly sisters were scared by little, but she’d seen them hesitant as they drained his wounds. It had taken six men to get him into the stream and wash all the muck and pus and blood off him. It had taken three of those men and Adelais to get his armour off.

The sisters had kept him mostly sedated, rousing him to give him food and water. Sandor was still so out of it though that Adelais hardly thought he noticed. Poultices had been applied, every few hours, then as they worked, drawing out infection and taking swelling down, this was changed to once in the morning and once in the evening. They weren’t exactly maesters but the Sisters could have been. Adelais was chiefly in charge of bringing them back the things they needed. Mostly finding it amongst the forest around them and then, when Sandor was not fully asleep, she was the one to change the bandages.

“He needs Milk of the Poppy and Nightshade to send him back to sleep.” One of them said busying herself near a shelf.

“I don’t need fucking anything.” Sandor growled trying to sit up again. Adelais pushed him back down and his head swam.

“I said lie down.” Her tone was firm, commanding but there was an unspoken threat that if he didn’t do as she said he’d be sent back to sleep. Sandor decided she wasn’t trying to kill him or perform some sort of magic at least.

Adelais wiped her bleeding lip again. She could feel it swelling, even on his arse Sandor still had some power in those arms.

“Where the fuck am I?” Sandor asked. The sisters muttered something, Adelais looked over to them and nodded that they could leave. The Everly Sisters could deal with aggression brought on by pain, deal with blood and gore, but Adelais thought they were genuinely scared of Sandor.

“Safe.” Adelais said. “Do you want a run-down of your injuries or are you happy to feel them out?”

“You think this is funny? Tell me where the fuck I am.” Sandor growled. He tried to sit up again and Adelais pushed him back down making him feel like he wanted to vomit.

“Lie. Down.” Adelais said again. “You’re safe, you’re in a small settlement in the woods. Brother Ray found you and brought you back here. Mercy killing you would have been easier, but the sisters managed to see to most of your wounds. You’re in pretty good shape for someone found at the bottom of a ravine.”

“The fuck are you doing here?” Sandor asked her, watching her face as though she might suddenly reveal some nefarious intent.

“Making sure you don’t scare those two off or hit them in the face for trying to help.” She wiped away blood from the corner of her mouth again.

“So, we’re in Aelton?” Sandor asked, his voice settling into a less aggressive but still grumpy candor.

“No. No we’re not.” Adelais said tightly.

“Then what are you doing here?” He asked again, watching something he couldn’t pin-point flash across her face.

“That’s a long story, all you need to know is that you’re safe and healing. You need to let the sisters keep at their work though. They’re just trying to keep you alive.”

“And what if I don’t want that.” Sandor bit back.

“Then you can talk to Brother Ray. I was ready to mercy kill you, especially when it looked really bad, but he wouldn’t let me. Those women though, even a bit scared they’re trying to help you, so be nice. If you clock one of them the way you clocked me, you’ll end up with me tending to your wounds and I’m not a nursemaid.”

#?#

“Ray, it’s fine.”

“I’m just going to have a word.”

“Just let him rest.”

“The sisters said he shouted at you, that he punched you.”

“If he’d have punched me, I’d have still been out cold.” Adelais scoffed. “He caught me, that’s all. You’d be doing the same if you woke up in a strange place after expecting to die. I may also have pressed a little hard on a wound. Pretty sure I swore worse than that at the sisters anyway.”

“Yeah but you weren’t some 7ft brute, with kings armour on.” Ray replied, starting to move past her again.

“You were right, I know him.” Adelais held up her hands. “Kingslanding, he knew my brother, fought with him a few times. Saved his life. He’s not like you, not friendly, not a talker.” Adelais said stepping in front of Brother Ray. “He just wants to be left alone.”

Ray stopped walking and put his hands on his hips.

“Fine. He hits you again though I’m going in there. I won’t have violence in this camp Adelais.”

Sandor heard everything from inside the hut as he lay stewing on his situation. He was going to end up chopped liver sat here, someone was bound to tell the bloody Lannisters about where he was and then they’d come for him. He couldn’t stay here forever but right now he couldn’t walk either. The vulnerability of it all filled his chest with mild panic, clawing at his throat.

Adelais hadn’t told this Brother Ray exactly who he was though. She could have, but she hadn’t told him his name and Sandor couldn’t think of a single reason why she would be trying to help him. Then again, he’d never been able to figure her out back in King’s Landing. There she’d been one of the few Ladies of the court to treat him like a human being and not like a dog. No matter how gruff, how nasty, how cutting he was with her she always came back to talk to him, always un-offended with a reply waiting.

“Have you stopped sulking yet?” Adelais asked as she entered the hut. Sandor looked at her out of one eye and gritted his teeth. A smile twitched at her lips. “No, right, I reckon one of the bigger kids will definitely finish off this food.”

Sandor’s stomach growled in response and Adelais chuckled shaking her head.

The panic eased in his chest a little, the hand around his throat loosening. Somewhere inside he was grateful for a familiar face, more than that though, he was glad the familiar face was her. If there was anyone from King’s Landing he wouldn’t mind seeing, it was her.

“Really, no one’s trying to hurt you. No one’s looking for you, no one knows who you are. Ray just saw a guy half dead and wanted to help.” She fully entered the hut, putting the little bowl of soup and the bread down on the side table. “Don’t hit me again.” Adelais said standing next to him and hooking her hand under his arm so she could help him up.

Sandor grunted in pain, trying to suppress anything more than that as Adelais helped him to sit up, moving a pillow up behind his aching back. The base of his spine he found, didn’t hurt as much as he’d imagined. His ribs were tender, shoulder aching but the place the pain spiked the most was in his leg.

“Here,” Adelais handed him the bowl, a rough spoon and the bread. “To say you fell down a cliff face, you didn’t fair that badly. The sisters are pretty good at all this healing too. It was mostly infection, the leg and bruising here and there. They did something to your lung too, poked a long thin piece of metal right between your ribs.” Sandor raised a brow that was supposed to make Adelais stop talking as he ate and to his surprise she did stop. Moving towards the shelves and adding to some of the bottles before taking one down and taking some sort of herb out of it for herself.

He was grateful she hadn’t asked what happened yet. He didn’t feel like he was ready to talk about it. Over the course of his time with Arya he’d really come to care for the girl, as he had come to care for her sister before her. They were innocent, caught up in the politics and cruelty of something bigger than them. Sansa, he had offered to take away from King’s Landing and she had rejected his offer of help. He could understand that though. In the midst of battle what was a scared little girl supposed to do? Run off with a knight with a reputation like his? Or stay where she knew what awaited her. Still he’d felt guilty about that, guilty that his gruffness might have contributed to a worse fate for her.

He felt a protectiveness towards Sansa, she was a flighty little bird, too naive for her own good and he’d wanted to protect her from Joffrey’s cruelty in the same way he stopped Trent torturing defenceless animals and kids.

Arya had been different though. Arya had been fierce like him. She’d been trouble from the moment they’d set out on the road together. He had grown fond of her though. Fond of that fire in her heart, the desire for vengeance against those who’d harmed her and her family. She was funny too, dry and witty and she could fight well. Sandor had come to care for her in an almost paternal way and when she’d left him to die at the bottom of that cliff he’d had conflicting emotions. Part of him proud of the cold little thing she’d become. Part of him hurt that the care he’d felt towards her, had not been reciprocated enough to kill him when he needed it.

Sandor had fought for her, trying to keep her safe. He wondered if she knew that. If she knew that’s why he’d gone into battle with Brienne of Fucking Tarth. He wondered where she was now. No doubt still alive and causing trouble somewhere else, slowly ticking off names on her never-ending list.


	3. Help

Adelais had been into town, it was half a day’s walk from the camp. She’d hunted on the way, done some foraging to trade for some clothes that would hopefully be big enough for Sandor. When he was feeling better, she was hoping he’d come with her. He could carry a deer for her, then they’d be able to trade it for a lot more than she got with the rabbits and fowl.

It was turning twilight when she got back to camp, everyone was sat around, including the Everly Sisters listening to Ray talk. She nodded to them as she passed, shaking two bottles in her hand that they’d requested she try and get and made her way to the hut.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Adelais asked. Sandor was lying on the floor, writhing, trying to get up.

“Can’t a man take a piss in peace?” He retorted back. Adelais rolled her eyes and sighed. When did this become part of her life? She’d been happy and enjoying a relatively quiet life. At what point had she done something to deserve having to help Sandor Clegane go for a piss?

“Not when one of his legs doesn’t work.” Adelais replied. “And when he’s just broken the pot the sisters left him to piss in.” Adelais gestured to the broken crockery.

“You want to see my cock is that it?” Sandor growled trying to pull himself up back to the bed, he managed to just get himself into a sitting position. Glaring at Adelais.

“I’ve already seen it, who the fuck do you think cleaned you up in the river?” Adelais said pointedly.

“You want to touch it? That it?” Sandor was trying and failing to push her buttons, she could tell he was angry and frustrated so she held back the retort that she’d already done that too, being the one to clean him up in the river.

“You know what, fine, piss yourself, sit in a puddle of piss until the sisters come back, in the morning....” She said holding up her hands and turning to walk away.

“I just wanted some fresh air.” Sandor said through gritted teeth. “A piss and some fresh air.”

“I’ll help you outside to a tree, you can have your piss and then I’ll help you back. Tomorrow I’ll find you a stick big enough to support you so we can get you back on your feet. I got you these from town too.” Adelais put the bottles on the shelf and pulled some clothes out of her bag.

“Why are you helping me?” Sandor asked suspiciously.

“The quicker you get better, the quicker you can help me carry bigger trade to town and the quicker we can get a horse or more materials or extra medicine or even just some chickens.” Adelais replied matter of factly. She left out the fact that, actually she was quite helpful, despite everything that had happened she generally still wanted the best for people. That wouldn’t have washed with Sandor though, who was doing everything in his power to make sure nobody helped him. She walked over and helped him to his feet, letting him brace himself on her shoulders. He was heavy, heavier than she’d expected but she was too stubborn to show it.

Slowly they moved towards the door, Sandor limping and grimacing in pain every time his foot touched the floor.

“How did you really end up here?” He said, now relieved, as he leant against one of the big trees around the back of the hut. Adelais handed him a skein full of wine as he grimaced.

“My sister got what she wanted and tried to kill me in the process. No idea what happened to the others I helped get away, but I saw the whole everyone believing I was dead thing as a blessing.” Adelais said giving him a half truth.

“You’re still using your name.” Sandor pointed out arching a brow.

“I like my name. Besides, someone’s going to figure out who I am eventually or recognise me. I’m not hiding, I’m just not running back into a fight I know I can’t win. Besides this is the kind of life I always would have preferred anyway.” She admitted. “What about you, how did you end up here, or rather at the bottom of a cliff. Lannister soldiers finally catch up with you? They still had a hefty price on your head when I left.”

“Those shits couldn’t cut me down if there was twenty thousand of the fuckers.” Sandor said taking another drink.

“So?” Adelais asked after waiting a moment in silence.

“Brienne of Fucking Tarth is what happened.” Sandor admitted.

“Brienne? What would she even want with you? Take your head back to Jamie in a bag maybe as some sort of gift.” Adelais mused.

“It wasn’t me she wanted.” Sandor admitted even quieter. He felt a pang in his chest, he’d failed to protect Arya. Adelais just looked at him and eventually Sandor relented. “I was trying to get Arya fucking Stark back to her family. Fat lot of good that did.”

“Then what happened to her?” Adelais felt a stirring in her chest, a guilt associated with Sansa that gnawed at her on occasion. A guilt associated with Ned that gnawed at her and a guilt associated with not following gut and helping the Starks instead of the Lannisters. The Starks hadn’t come to Aubouroc asking for help and men and armour though. The Lannister’s had and even if they had, she wasn’t sure she would have been able to turn away from Tyrion that easily. The guilt about Sansa though was real, she could have helped her get away. She could have hidden her, helped her to somewhere else. Instead she’d stood by as Joffrey had tormented her, as she’d been forced to marry Tyrion and as Cersei had watched and orchestrated all this with glee.

“Oh, she got away fine, last time I saw her she was walking off into the distance after refusing to kill me.” Sandor said, his face picked up slightly at the side though, a half smile, like he was proud of Arya. “This Ray, he alright?” Sandor asked seeming to relax a little now he wasn’t cooped up and unaware of his surroundings. Adelais could relate, she’d tried to leave a few times when she’d woken up here. She’d had to learn to shake off the tense feeling that had followed her everywhere back home. The feeling that at any moment someone could stab you in the back, figuratively and literally. She’d had to acclimatise to Ray and the others, the freedom, the fading sense of duty. Sandor would get there in time just like she had, if he decided to stick around.

“He used to be a sellsword.” Adelais said.

“Course he fucking did, just your type then.” Sandor had meant it as a joke but he caught the flex of tension that ran along Adelais’ jaw. A thousand questions paused on his tongue in that moment. A compliment of sorts too, that she didn’t deserve whatever he’d done. However, Bronn had fucked her over. That the world had punished her enough. Instead Sandor changed the subject. “What’s in all this for him?”

“He’s a good man.” Adelais said but Sandor raised his good brow at her and she sighed. “Redemption?” She offered. “For a past built on blood. Can’t change the past but you can choose the future.”

“Here you are! Wondering where you’d sloped off too after getting back, come on I’m done with the sermon. There’s ale and pie, fresh bread too if you’re hungry.” Ray approached them from just beyond the hut with a cheery look on his face. “You can join us too, I’ll even help you hobble over. Daringer is just about to tell a story and he’s got some right funny ones.” Ray turned to Sandor.

“Y’all right.” Sandor said waving him off.

“Come on it’ll do you good.” Ray said cheerfully. Adelais stood to the side looking at him with a smile on her face that suggested she knew how much he didn’t want to be surrounded by people drinking and singing, but that she wasn’t going to help him wriggle out of it.

“Yeah, come on. I’ll even help you back afterwards.” Adelais said not hiding her smirk.

As Sandor sat around the campfire that night he felt something stir inside him. He hadn’t been free in so long, since rising to King’s Guard he’d felt he was always being watched and therefore always had to keep his composure. Too many men were scared of him. It was though he’d loathed to admit it, a lonely place to be. How lonely he hadn’t realised until he’d been on the road with Arya. Arya who was unafraid of him, Arya who didn’t give two shits how many people he’d killed, she still tried to stab him, to bash his head in with a rock. He knew the girl had mostly hatred for him in her heart, but they’d formed a bond.

It had been so long since he’d been surrounded by ordinary people, not lords and ladies, not people who knew of his reputation, these were just ordinary folk living free from the politics of King’s Landing and Adelais, Adelais who even in King’s Landing had been unswayed by his grumpy, bad tempered nature. There she was practically glowing, he didn’t think he’d ever seen her look so happy. So relaxed and free as she laughed and chatted with the people around them.

This wasn’t right.

It wasn’t right that he was here. Alive and on the mend. It wasn’t right that he was here and poor farmers with children to feed were dying. It wasn’t fair that he was here and some poor sod he’d slaughtered was dead and cold in the ground. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair that no matter how much blood coated his hands the gods still didn’t punish him. The world didn’t punish him.

It wasn’t fair that the gods and the world punished her, Adelais, and not him. She might have had blood on her hands but not like he did. She might have made bad decisions but not like he had. Seeing her so free now, so happy, just made him realise how tormented she’d really been amongst the politics of the Lannister’s. Now she was free of duty. The gods couldn’t exist, or they’d have given her this sooner and they’d have punished him sooner for his endless list of misdeeds.

If Ray too had been a sellsword. Why wasn’t he punished either? Instead he was here, laughing, joking and leading. If the Gods were real, surely Ray would be on the list to be punished just like he was, all sellswords probably should be.

“You’re not gunna try and do her in are you.” Ray said suddenly sitting down next to him.

“The fuck you talking about?” Sandor asked gruffly.

“We don’t do violence here.” Ray said but with the look still on Sandor’s face he added. “It was a joke, because of the look on your face.” Ray said moving his finger around the outline of Sandor’s face. “One of the lads knows a thing or two about broken legs, used to work in a stables, I mean the horses they-“ Ray drew a line across his neck. “Few of his friends though, he helped sort them out, he’ll be happy to help if you let him.”

“What’s he going to do? Rub it better? I’ve had worse than this.” Sandor asked nastily.

“Aye I can believe that, but then you had fancy palace healers and maesters.” Ray pointed out. “Offers there if you want it.” He said, sensing their conversation was at an end he got up and walked off towards some of the others sat in a cluster.

Maybe it was time for him to accept help. He hadn’t always been this lump of grumpy bitter anger. Once upon a time he’d been just another soldier and in that time he’d been just another bloke trying to get by, he’d managed to let the pain of his past go for a while. He’d been able to trust his brothers in arms, even with the lingering scar in him from his brother’s betrayal. Maybe here, away from knights, away from lords and ladies, away from soldiers and politics, maybe he could leave behind The Dog and just be Sandor.


	4. When Many Became 2

“You know they notice that you work apart, that you eat apart.” Adelais slumped down on the rock next too Sandor. He’d come a long way since being brought to the camp on the brink of death. His leg healed and his limp got better every day. He’d become part, but not part, of the little community. He was helping build the Sept, carrying logs that usually took three by himself.

He seemed to have relaxed, somewhat, into this role. Though he was still cantankerous enough that a lot of people avoided him or feared him. Adelais seemed to help soften people towards him, and Ray.

“Maybe I wouldn’t sit so fucking far away if that blonde girl would stop staring at me.” Sandor bit back as he finished the rest of his bread and stew. Adelais looked back at the crowd, and caught the eye of one of the girls, who was staring. Adelais could see the reason she was staring, and the reason Sandor thought she was staring were different things though.

“Baeli? Smaller than me, young?” She asked him.

“Baeli, that her name.” Sandor asked turning back towards the crowd. He caught her looking and she blushed furiously as he turned back shaking his head.

“She likes you, that’s all.” Adelais said a teasing tone to her voice.

“She likes me? She doesn’t fucking know me.” Sandor replied taking a drink of water from his skein.

“She _likes_ you.” Adelais grinned at him shaking her head.

“Fuck off.”

“She does.” Adelais said as Sandor glanced back and then at Adelais. He sighed heavily closing his eyes like this whole thing was incredibly annoying.

“She doesn’t know me.” Sandor growled, because who, if they did know him would fancy him? He was hardly going to win any ladies around with his face. In fact, the thing that had drawn anyone near previously had been his reputation, not him, and even not factoring in his face he was no prince charming, it wasn’t like he could offer romance and heartfelt conversation. He wasn’t some bleeding-heart romantic.

“Well I know that. If she did, I don’t think she’d be so taken. You’re old, grumpy, cantankerous.” Adelais smirked.

“Ha Ha.” Sandor half growled and Adelais just shook her head. He was grateful, though he hated to admit it, for her company. He could be a mean bastard but sometimes he was joking and Adelais seemed to understand the difference. She didn’t treat him differently either. When he’d first arrived, even after she’d helped him, he kept trying to see her off. Barking like the dog he’d been to try and scare her away, but it didn’t work. She understood, or came back, or retorted with a sharper bark. She wasn’t scared of him and it seemed she was trying to prove that as much as he was trying to prove that she should be scared of him. They’d settled into a friendship now that Sandor would miss if she suddenly left the community, which she could if she wanted.

“You’re a handsome man, even if you are a bad-tempered one most of the time.” Adelais nudged him gently. “They’re nice, if you get to know them.” She gestured with her head back to where the others were sat laughing and telling stories.

“They’re daft.” Sandor said half-heartedly. “Gods this and gods that. No such thing as the fucking gods far as I can see. This is what there is. Dirt and mud and soil.”

“Sometimes people just want something more to believe in, gives them hope. Gives them a reason things happen.”

“That why you’re still here? Starry eyed over a reformed fucking sellsword. Hope?” Sandor realised he’d bitten a little to hard then, from the flinch Adelais made but he didn’t apologise.

“I was almost killed. They took me in whilst I recovered. Same as you.”

“And now your better. So why are you still hovering around? Shouldn’t you be finding the dwarf, your sellsword at the castle, or are you waiting to see if he’ll ask you to be his wife?” He gestured to Ray and Adelais screwed her face up, indicating she had no interest in Ray in that way.

“I’ll never be anyone’s wife.” Adelais let out a mean laugh. “A lifetime has taught me that and yes for all my knowledge I was naiive enough to think that maybe Bronn cared about me. I was a fool and now I have no house, no family, no friends. This is all I’ve got left. Until I find something better to do I might as well help feed them.” Anger seemed to well up inside her, it was so controlled though. She could have slapped him, punched him, called him an arsehole and instead, her eye twitched at the corner, her jaw clenched tight and she turned and walked away from him.

“Oooft what did you say to her?” Ray said gesturing with his head towards where Adelais was stalking off back into the woods. Sandor groaned, couldn’t he just eat his dinner in fucking peace. “She cares about you that one, wouldn’t hurt you to be a bit nicer.”

“The fuck you talking about?” Sandor asked looking over his shoulder. Some children had stopped Adelais to ask her something and even with anger simmering beneath the surface she was nice and cordial and friendly with them. It still baffled him, that people could push, and push and push and she’d not yet snapped. Maybe that’s why she spent so much time in the woods. Maybe firing arrows into trees was a release. Or maybe she was saving it up and one day it was all going to come pouring out.

“When I brought you back, to the group, she knew who you were. Wouldn’t tell me though. All she kept saying was you were a good man with a good heart.” Ray said shifting his weight. Sandor glanced back at him his face betraying nothing. “I think she was worried if I found out who you really were, I wouldn’t help you.”

“Shows what she knew.” Sandor replied, mopping up more soup with his bread.

“She told you about when I found her?” Ray asked and Sandor just glanced at him. “No course not.”

Ray readjusted his position, ready for a story. Sandor half watched, he was trying to tell himself he wasn’t interested, but the truth was, he was. He’d heard some of the congregation, especially the children, talking about her scars.

“Wasn’t me actually, it was Molly. Arlow’s wife. Little Bessie comes running down the hill and we thought something had happened, you know, soldiers or something but no, she says they found a woman. Stumbling around, suspected infected wounds. She’d been shot down, about a dozen or so arrows. Whoever put that stuff on those wounds, the stuff that made it look infected, probably saved her life. My guess is she woke up and took off scared. Soon as she was half strong enough she was up and out, retraining herself, making that shoulder work. Never known someone be able to shoot a rabbit like that with barely any meat lost. I thought she’d leave, after she was all better, but she didn’t. Said she had nothing left out there anyway. Preferred being outdoors. She told me she helped people escape when her house got taken over. She was the decoy so the people still loyal to her could get away to safety. Some decoy, I don’t know what she did, but she really pissed someone off.”

“Her sister.” Sandor grunted, mulling over what he’d been told.

“Fucking noblemen and their families ey.” Ray said, waving his hand at someone over the way.

*#?

Hearing broken bracken beneath feet Sandor looked up to see Adelais coming through the wood, a couple of rabbits on her belt.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Sandor asked.

“Hunting.” Adelais replied.

“No chickens?” Sandor asked causing Adelais to give him a half smile.

“No birds full stop.” Adelais replied

“Maybe your aims off.” Sandor jested. He was trying to get a bit of a reaction out of her. He might be big and hard and say he had a heart of stone, but he was aware his jibes about that bastard Bronn and the Lannister dwarf had upset her. There was a part of him that felt guilty too, which had not been eased by what Ray had told him. She really had lost everything, but she was freer for it, even if the wounds still lingered inside.

“My aims never off, hold your hand out if you want I’m happy to prove it.” Adelais bit back but her face slid into a smile. “Loris asked me to get rabbit if I could, wants to make something with the hide and fur.” Adelais said.

“I didn’t know you took requests.”

“If I had a horse, I could bring back more than just birds and rabbits and fish. If I had a horse, I could bring down one of those deers further afield. Then we could have a real feast. I could probably get us a boar or two too. I have to wait for them to stray too far at the moment but if I had a horse I could ride right into their territory. Thing about that, nice big roasted boar.”

“Do you miss it?” Sandor asked.

“Miss what?” Adelais retuned the question slightly confused.

“Castles, court, feasts.” Sandor asked.

“No.” Adelais said quickly but a dark shadow passed across her face. “No, those places are full of liars and falsities.”

“And you think this lot aren’t?” Sandor asked her cynically.

“I think these people have less of a reason for it. No politics and trying to steal a crown out here.”

“And you agree with all this no violence stuff.” Sandor asked her.

“Not all of it. I think he’s right violence does breed violence. But sometimes it’s necessary. And if those bastards with the horses come back, I’ll put an arrow through each of their faces.”

Sandor was about to reply when a scream penetrated the air. Him and Adelais wheeled around in the direction of the sept and the villagers. Adelais picked her way quickly across the ground, much more sure footed than Sandor and his limp.

The sight winded her, and she stood, trying to catch her breath as Sandor moved around her. They were all dead, every single one of them. Every man woman and child who’d been part of this village was dead, with the exception of Sandor and Adelais, the two most prepared to protect it. Adelais took two sharp breaths in when she came to a stop beside Sandor. Ray was hanging from the unfinished Sept, eyes bulging in his head. It was a message.

Sandor moved before she did, and it took her a couple of minutes to realise he wasn’t there. By which time he was halfway over the hill and striding towards the forest. Adelais was torn, she wanted justice, but she also wanted to do something here, not that there was anything to be done. She couldn’t bury all the dead on her own. Adelais grabbed another skein of arrows and followed after Sandor. Ray hadn’t agreed with violence and now he was hanging from his own sept. Adelais was going to make those bastard looking for steel and horses and food swing. She was going to make them swing from there-

“You couldn’t have saved me one?” Adelais asked as she caught up to Sandor and looked around at the carnage he’d created. Dead men strewn about the campsite. Tt was a satisfying image but it would have been more satisfying if she’d been able to kill one herself.

“It’s not all of them.” Sandor grunted.

“No, they went this way.” Adelais gestured onto a path, looking at the details on around her that could help them track the other men. “Left on the road.”

Sandor brushed past her and stalked up the path. He didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to ruminate, he just wanted to kill. He wanted to get those bastards. Murdering helpless villages who’d done fuck all wrong.

“Going to wait for me, no, off to kill them on your own with a gammy leg.” Adelais rolled her eyes and watched him keeping walking for a moment before following him. Her bow slung over her shoulder but in easy reach, her daggers in even easier reach.


End file.
